Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
He touched her back to let her pass and he thought he felt her shiver, the scent of arousal growing stronger. She stole a glance at him from under her lashes.
Closed in the elevator with her, her scent filled his nostrils. She wore a rich, vanilla fragrance, but it was her own natural scent underneath that made his blood warm. He wanted to touch her again, wanted to soften the line between her brows, the one that betrayed her pain.
Get a grip, Ben.
“So, how long have you worked for me?”
She looked up, her lips forming a pretty bow. “Almost two years.”
“Do you like it?”
She hesitated a beat. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“What don’t you like?”
“I said I like it,” she protested.
“You’re not the best liar.”
She flushed. “I’m really happy here. I’m just,” she licked her lips again, “looking forward to taking on more responsibility.”
He rewarded her with a glimmer of a smile. “Very diplomatic, Ashley. I appreciate that. It’s a skill I lack.”
She smiled and looked down at her feet as if to hide it. Clearly she’d heard all the rumors about him.
“So you’re bored?”
The elevator doors opened, giving him the opportunity to touch her back again to escort her out. Her hips swayed, heels clicking on the concrete.
“No… well, honestly? Yes. But I understand I have to work my way up. And I’m willing to do it.”
“I might have a personal assistant position opening up on the top floor, if you’re interested.” He didn’t know what made him say it. His secretary had been trying to act as a personal assistant to him since the day he’d taken over the company after his brother’s death, and he’d been pushing her away. But something about Ashley Bell intoxicated him. He couldn’t have her, but he wanted to keep her near, even if it meant giving up his coveted privacy and solitude.
Her eyes slid sideways. “Is that a glorified secretarial position?”
He resisted the urge to swat her sashaying backside. “Do you think it’s beneath you? I assure you the pay is at least twice, maybe three times what you’re making now.”
“No, I—” She blushed again.
He wanted to push her against his black Mustang and kiss her full lips.
“I’m sorry, that was rude. Would I be working for you?”
“Yes… do you find that daunting?”
She let out a short bark of laughter. “Yes,” she admitted. “But it would also be the main selling point.”
Her answer pleased him more than he wanted to admit. He needed to regain his footing. “Am I selling this job to you?” he asked drily.
“Oh—” Her smile vanished. “Of course not. I-I would be honored to be considered for the position, of course.”
He caught another whiff of her arousal. Was she turned on by his sternness? The same thing that made his employees complain about him? Wolves responded to dominance, but humans were a mixed bag. While he could make every one of his employees grovel with little more than a disapproving look, not all of them enjoyed submitting. This one, it seemed, lived for it. Maybe that was his attraction to her.
He opened the passenger side door for her and watched her shapely legs as she folded them into the car. When he climbed in beside her, he asked for her address and put it in his GPS. Then he began to grill her. “Education?”
“Bachelor’s in English/film studies from Colorado College.”
“Grade point average?”
“Three point eight seven, magna cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa.”
“Work history?”
“Three years as a barista at Starbucks, two years as waitress at Red Lobster. One internship with Channel Four News. Close to two years here.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.” She rubbed her temples.
He instantly regretted giving her the third degree. “I’m sorry, he said, softening his tone. “Am I making your head worse?” He realized she’d grown paler since they’d left the building.
“No,” she said, but he knew it was a lie.
“We don’t have to talk,” he said.
He muted the guidance system and followed the map, driving in silence until he reached her brick duplex in the hip but transitional Denver neighborhood.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning. Be ready by seven.”
Her mouth dropped. “What? Really?”
He wrote his cell phone number on the back of a card. “Call me if the migraine will keep you from going to work.”
She blinked at him, looking stunned. “You’re picking me up? In the morning?”
“Well, you left your car in the parking garage, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
He waved his hand impatiently with his usual rudeness, shooing her out of his car.
“Thank you, Mr. Stone.”
“Good night,” he said curtly, putting the car into gear before she even shut the door.
He needed to leave before he followed her in and tore her clothes off, marked her with his teeth, and claimed the little human… He shook his head. That couldn’t happen. Because she wouldn’t forgive it, for one thing. And he didn’t do relationships, for another. No, this very strange development, this sudden interest in a female human could not be pursued. Period.